The A Team
by AdelaidesLament
Summary: Senior year is starting for the class of 2012 and everyone is ready for senior year. But for three seniors this last year at Degrassi might just be the one that breaks them. But what doesn't break you makes you stronger...right? Owen/OC, Bianca/Adam
1. Hear My Song

_So this is an Owen/OC because to be honest I really like Owen. I think he's a great character (great not as in like super wonderful but great as in complexity and development). This is supposed to take place during the upcoming season but I consider it AU because I live in the states where Degrassi doesn't air until November 18th. _

_(POV's will be switching. This chapter is just one of the character's journals. Main characters will be Adam Torres, Owen Milligan, Bianca DeSousa and an OC Emaleigh Konigsburg)_

_Read. Enjoy. Review. _

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><p><em>But lie in my arms while your sleeping<em>

_And think of the rivers you've crossed_

_I'll tell you the dreams I've been keeping _

_For moments like this_

_When your hope is lost_

**Emaleigh Konigsburg's Personal Journal**

**6:20am-**

Sometimes I wish I could just fly away. Or disappear. Just…without even trying just evaporate into the air. No one would even know that I had gone, life would just go on without me. Maybe just invisible. I could just be invisible. Deaf. Blind. I wouldn't have to hear them, see them. Know them.

_What a freak._

_She never does anything. _

_She's such a loser. _

I want to be so different. I want to be something. Just something…different, new, not myself anymore. I want to look in the mirror and not be absolutely disgusted at my reflection. I want someone to want me. I want to want me. I want to be beautiful, smart, funny, everything.

I want to be able to stand up for myself. I want to say to them what I can write to myself.

_Who are you to call me a loser?_

I am exactly the same as you. I am human too. I have all the same parts, I work the same way. Maybe my nose isn't as straight and my hair isn't as silky. Maybe I don't laugh at all the same jokes or listen to all the same music. But I am myself and I have every right to walk down those halls, to exist in this world along side you. Who are you to take that away from me? Who are you to tell me that I am less than you? That I am not good enough to co-exist with you in a crowded hallway.

I don't want to be you. I don't want to be your friend. You don't have to like me. You don't even have to talk to me. But you have to respect me. I am still a person. I am the same as you are and I respect you so why is it so hard for you to respect me? What did I do to you that made you hate me so much?

You don't get to call me a loser, a freak, a nothing. You don't get to be the one who puts me down because you don't even know me. You've never lived my life, been in my home. You haven't seen what I've seen. I don't party like you; I don't hang with my friends on the weekends. I go to school, do my homework and go home at the end of the day. Why is that so wrong?

Why do you have to tell me what you think I am? I wish you could hear inside my head. When I stand in the mirror in the morning I hear all the words that come so easily out of your mouth. Every single thing you say to me is there rushing through my head as I try to prepare myself for school. Loser. Freak. But it's not your voice; it's never your voice I hear in my head.

I hear my own voice.

I pull on clothes and I can hear my own mocking voice in my head.

_Fat. Ugly. _

I try to finish my homework and there it is in the back of my mind.

_Stupid. Worthless._

I can't even walk out the door without it there. I just want to disappear. But more than that I want you to hear. I want you to hear the words that are trapped in my head. You didn't put them there; I did. I think them every day and every day I come to school and you remind me how right I am.

Do you hear the same things when you're getting dressed, brushing your teeth, fixing your hair? Can you hear the words forming in your mind the same way as me? Sometimes I sit on the closed toilet seat in the morning and I cry because I can't possibly go through another day facing all that. But then I brush my cheeks and push back my shoulders because I have dreams. Because someday it will all be okay and I won't hurt so much. Someday you won't be there. But I wonder if you sit there too…if you cry in your bathroom before fixing your make-up. If you think to yourself that someday you'll be somewhere else and you won't have to wake up and face a day of people you hate so much. People who hate you for things you can't control.

_Like breathing. _

I didn't choose this life. I didn't choose to be in this school, on this day, at this time. Why would anyone choose to be treated the way you've treated me?

I don't want you to like me. I certainly don't like you. But I just want your respect. I just want you to look at me as a human being. After all…I don't think of you as less then human. I just want to feel like there is a place for me to go where I don't have to be afraid of being myself. Somewhere that feels like a home to me. Isn't a school supposed to be there to make you feel safe? Aren't you supposed to feel like you belong there? Like you're comfortable there? Why can't you just let me be sometimes?

_I am more than just a face without a name. I am more than a loser, a freak. I am not ugly, fat, stupid, lame. I am just myself. _

Do you remember when it didn't matter? When it wasn't so difficult to just be with your friends? When people didn't judge you based on the friends you hung out with and the clothes you wore and the way you did your hair? I want to live in that world again. I want to be able to say hi to someone in the hallway just because it's polite and respectful. I want to be able to feel like I'm good enough. I don't have to be good enough you to talk to me. I just want to feel good enough to be alive. Is that really such a horrible thing in the world?

_I wish I could send this to you. _

I wish I could make them read this. I would tape it to all the lockers of all the people who have ever made me feel less that good enough. I would mail it to all the kids in the world who feel like me so they could send it to all the people who make them feel that way. I would announce it over loudspeaker during the morning announcements.

But right now I have to get ready for school. I have to straighten my hair because you say it looks like a dead animal when I leave it alone. I have to dust cover-up under my eyes and on the corners of my mouth and nose to hide all the blemishes that you say make me ugly. If I could I would throw on a pair of skinny jeans and a white t-shirt and I'd pull my hair back and go to school. I'd leave myself be so that my skin could breathe. But I wrestle with black tights and an A-line skirt to match my white cable-knit jumper. Because that's what a cute girl wears…skirts and make-up.

Why can't I remember myself anymore? Why can't I see passed this image of a girl that I probably wouldn't even be friends with in real life?

**1:00pm-**

You would laugh at me…I'm so sure of it that I can hardly bring myself to write this now. Even my friends would laugh at me. Adam would burst into the biggest laugh on the face of the planet. His whole face lighting up. I wish you'd pay attention when he smiled. You'd really see him…he's handsome. Beautiful eyes and a wide smile.

But even he would laugh at me. It'd all be a joke. I couldn't tell him though. I wouldn't want to hurt him like that. After everything he'd been through last year to know that I had a crush on the guy that threw him through a door? I mean…he apologized and they'd hung out over the summer…but part of me would still feel like I was betraying him.

It's not like it matters. It's not like he'd ever see me. Sometimes when I'm standing at my locker I see him looking down the hall and I always wish that he were looking at me. But he's always just looking passed me. I try though.

Straighter hair, shorter skirt, tighter top, no stockings, high heels, make-up. I look like Bianca, I feel violated…this isn't me. I can't even tell whom this is when I look in the mirror. My mom isn't home so she doesn't see, my brother tells me that I looked beautiful before and he doesn't know why I'm dressed like a street-walker. I drive home and change.

But then I lose my chance because he's flirting with some other girl who's dressed the same way I was dressed earlier. Adam tells me that I look good in plain old jeans and a tee shirt. Adam always tells me I look good because he's not so blind.

I think about him even more during math because he sits in the seat in front of me. I can tell why he liked Anya. She was so pretty, so nice. I wish I could look like her. I wish I could look like anyone other than myself. He doesn't even bother to pay attention to the teacher. He's leaning to the side to whisper to Drew and I'm convincing myself that the broad is more important than him.

After math is lunch. I was trying to shove my books back in my bag and I hit him in the side by accident.

"Watch it chub." He mutters and brushes passed me.

_I had a check-up last month at the doctor. He told me I was an average weight for my height. I was 5'10'' and wore a size 14. Typical, a good weight, he told me. _

"Do you think you could move your fat ass so I can get out the door?" A girl remarks, shoving me into the hallway.

I just bought a new copy of _Anna Karenina _for English (their copy was old and smelled like rotting paper). I watched in fly into the busy hallway. I went to grab it and felt a foot on my backside as I was sent forward onto my hands and knees in the hallway. The girl who had pushed me down laughed and headed down the hall with her friends. I retrieved a now battered book and decided not to eat lunch.

I sat outside on the front steps and was alone for the first time in a while. I tried to listen but I couldn't even concentrate long enough to pay attention to all the noises outside.

How could I like a guy who called me chub and shoved me in the hallways? Didn't I have any self-respect? The answer to that is simple. The answer was no. I'm not sure having self-respect would change anything…I doubt it would make him or anyone else nicer. But maybe I wouldn't like him so much.

**1:00am-**

I should go to sleep. I still have all my homework to finish and dishes to clean in the sink but I should probably just turn the lights off and call it a night. I wonder if other people worry about all this. Maybe they do, maybe everyone goes home and has to take care of their family.

Or maybe it's only me. Everyone else just goes home and does their homework. Their friends call and they hang out on facerange or twitter, chatting until their parents call them into the dining room for dinner. Or maybe they all just hang out at each other's houses and party on the weekends and don't worry so much about homework.

_Just lie in my arms _

_And I'll tell you_

_The things that you know, but forget_

_The lies no one ever could sell you_

_I know that it's hard_

_But don't give up yet_


	2. Skyscraper

_**Chapter Two! I feel so accomplished. This chapter is from Adam's POV which was trickier to write then I thought it would be. I really hope you like it. And I would love, love, love to have some feedback on this chapter to hear what you guys thought of my Adam. **_

_As the smoke clears_

_I awaken, and untangle you from me_

_Would it make you, feel better _

_To watch me while I bleed?_

_All my windows still are broken_

_But I'm standing on my feet_

**The Journal of Adam Torres:**

**6:45am-**

Sometimes it hurt. Sometimes it hurts more then the scorching metal barrette I used to press to my skin. It hurts more than when my mom announces that my grandparents are coming to visit. I can feel the compression working as I pull the shirt over my head. They call it binding, I know some guys don't do it because it hurts…but then I remember the way it feels to be trapped and I know I have to push through the pain of the compression shirt. Because despite all the pain (an occasional bruising) I feel at the end of the day at least when I look in the mirror all I see is myself.

I don't look down in the shower. I keep my eyes trained on wall in front of me and sometimes I hardly rinse my body. I don't like to feel what I'm not. Eli always jokes how "_a few missing parts never stopped you_" but I know he's wrong. I can't look in the mirror until my red polo and tan khakis are on.

My mom was upset last year when I asked for surgery. She thought I was just doing it for Katie. At the time I guess I was…there was a part of me that wanted to change for her. People change for people all the time. But I know it was more then that. When I look at myself in the mirror, the compression shirt under my polo pressing my chest in flat, I wish I could like that all the time. I wish my body could look the way I feel. And all over again, even dressed to look the way I feel, I still feel trapped.

I can hear my mom pause as she calls my name, dying to say what she wants me to be but choosing instead to call me by my name. I can see the way she looks at me sometimes when she comes in to say goodnight. Like "_there's my child, I've missed them._" As if I'm hiding her daughter from her. As if I'm punishing her. And sometimes I want to tell her that the way she looks at me is punishment even more. I want to beg her to look at me the way she looks at Drew.

_Be proud of your youngest son. _

_Please._

This year will be different. I hope. I made it through last year alive. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? I didn't run away when Fitz slammed me into a locker, when Owen threw me through a glass door, when Bianca called me a freak. I didn't run away when I realized Fiona only saw me for the body I had been trapped in. I didn't run away when Dave treated me like I was less then human because of the way I was born.

_I didn't run away when Drew lost his mind and Vince shot me in the arm._

I'm still here. I'm still standing strong so that must mean I can survive right? I moved on from Fitz, I forgave Owen. I still feel something when I look at Bianca, I'd dance with her again any day. I didn't let Fiona hurt me because I knew she was hurting herself. Because I knew how it felt to be confused and angry and frustrated. Dave is one of my closest friends. I would never blame Drew for anything.

My grandma used to tell me when I was younger than anytime I felt bad I just had to remember that God never gives us more than we can handle. I used to think that she was just crazy and I'm still not so sure that I believe in some heavenly body…who puts a kid down here and makes them go through everything I've ever gone through? But I made it through last year and this year is my year. I'm done putting up with everyone else's bullshit.

_I'm no one's third wheel._

**1:20pm-**

I was happy to see Emaleigh sitting in Ms. Oh's study hall. I sat on the pill ball next to her. I had missed her over the summer, despite being in a constant text message.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered, leaning over into her space.

"Fine. I should be asking you." She retorted and looked over at me to fake a smile. Her eyes looked tired, more then mine.

"You know me…I bounce back like a slink-y." I replied and smiled.

"Do slink-y's bounce?" Drew asked as he sat in the seat behind me. I didn't know sometimes why people insisted on sticking Drew in classes with me. Didn't I see him enough at home?

"I'm pretty sure they don't." Emaleigh replied.

"Seriously Leigh? Don't encourage him." I sighed and clicked my computer on. I had to finish my essay for Perino before study hall was over. I knew last night that I should have finished the essay; I had plenty of time after dinner. Honestly I had set out to do the essay but the minute I sat down at the table Bianca had texted me asking how I was doing.

_I tried to concentrate. _

"Are you coming over tonight?" Drew asked Emaleigh, kicking the back of her pill ball.

"Not if you abuse me." Emaleigh answered and kicked him back.

Next year I would be a senior. There would be no Drew, Emaleigh, Eli, Fiona, Bianca, or Katie. I'd still have Clare and Dave but who knows where we'd be in a year. I know junior year just started and I shouldn't already be thinking about everyone leaving but I couldn't help it. Drew was hoping some top sports college would draft him for football or basketball…or really anything involving a ball. Emaleigh was applying to a dramatic arts college. If I could convince her to she would be helping Eli with the play this year too. I had no doubt that she'd get in and go somewhere far away and I'd be stuck here at Degrassi until I could go to college.

Part of me wanted to rewind. I wonder if I could redo my entire tenth grade year like those old R.L. Stine books where you choose the ending. Could I play out different scenarios until I got an easy ending? Maybe I could go all the way back to the beginning…I wouldn't mind that.

"Mom's making tacos for dinner." I commented.

Emaleigh glanced over from her paper, probably homework for tomorrow. I liked when she came over, then I wasn't stuck hanging out with Drew and his friends. All they ever did was watch UFC…and none of them would wrestle me, still.

_They were all a bunch of girls._

"I can come…I just have to be home by 8. My mom works tonight." Emaleigh stated, her eyes focused on her computer screen.

"Owen and KC are coming over for dinner too. We're watching the game tonight." Drew stated.

"Never mind then." Emaleigh commented.

No matter what she said I knew that she liked Owen. I was more surprised that it didn't piss me off when I first realized then anything else. Even so, it didn't surprise me that she would decline the offer to hang out if Owen and KC would be there. She wasn't particularly a fan of his behavior and despite his cleaning up for Anya no one really changes completely.

"Come on please…for me?" I smiled at her, wiggling my eyebrows up and down.

"Fine…just let me go home first and change out of my uniform." She stated.

**12:45pm-**

I wonder why people don't ever paint their ceiling. Laying here staring up at the white above me can get a little boring. My body can finally breathe. Someday I won't need things like compression shirts. Someday there won't be anything that separates my body and my brain. When I look in the mirror I'll only see myself and maybe then I'll feel happy all by myself.

_You take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_Go on and try to tear me down_

_I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a skyscraper_


	3. Mariella

_**Chapter three. Hope you like it as much as chapter's one and two. Obviously I can't include huge monologues at the beginning of every chapter. **_

_**I forgot I was going to tell you guys what songs I was using in each chapter. **_

_**So…**_

_**Chapter 1: **_**Hear My Song**_** from the play **_**Songs for a New World**_**. **_

_**Chapter 2: **_**Skyscraper **_**by **_**Demi Lovato**

_**Chapter 3: **_**Mariella **_**by **_**Kate Nash**

_Sometimes I wish I was like Mariella_

_She got some prick stick and she glued her lips together_

_So she never had to speak, never had to speak, never had to speak_

_People used to say she's as quiet as a mouse_

_She just doesn't make a peep._

**Emaleigh Konigsburg's personal journal**

**11:30am-**

I should have never gone to dinner last night at Adam's house. What did I really think would come out of it? I like Adam, a lot. He's like…my best friend, or soul mate in a totally unromantic way. I would not be able to open my front door half the time without knowing Adam was going to be there at school. Sometimes I wonder how I made it so long without him. But…why does everyone always have to make that into something it isn't.

The minute Mrs. Torres called us down for dinner I was teased.

"_I hope you and your girlfriend had the door open Adam." _

Owen always had to make stupid comments about things. And I didn't say anything back because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Sometimes I forget that I have a voice or an opinion. Sometimes I just say what I think people want to hear and not what I want to say. So I just tried not to look at him and kept my mouth shut. Adam just laughed off the comment like it meant nothing. Comments like those always mean something.

I shouldn't even be still going over the whole thing. It really was nothing, I should stop overanalyzing everything that happens to me. I can't go back and change it, no matter how many times I think over the situation in my head. Besides, I should pay attention to Ms. Dawes. She's talking about a new project she wants us to complete for the first semester of senior year.

"…and so at the end of the semester you should be able to give a report on your subject as if you were giving a report on yourself. I'm going to grade each of you individually on social interaction, detail of your report and understanding of your subject. Okay…I would normally let you each choose your partners for projects but this whole project is based on getting to know each other. So I'll assign each of you a partner." Ms. Dawes smiled like this was the most brilliant thing she'd ever come upon. I think she was horribly mistaken.

I don't believe there is anyone on the earth who is less of a people person than I am. I have Adam and that's as long as the list expands. I spend most of my time by myself, shut away in my house helping my mom raise two other children. I don't know how to relate to people my age…I have little in common with them.

What would they write about me on a paper? I've never had a boyfriend, never done drugs, never stayed out passed curfew (I don't even have a curfew), never partied or gotten drunk. I've never had detention or gotten in trouble with a teacher. 17 and I've never even said the F word out loud.

"Drew Torres and Jake Martin." Ms. Dawes read off, at least she has some sense…those two are like girlfriend magnets.

"Marisol Lewis and Elijah Goldsworthy." That was hard to imagine. Clare and Adam were both in my English class but were excused from the assignment, it was just for seniors apparently.

"Emaleigh Konigsburg and Owen Milligan." Was she kidding me? I nearly choked.

Adam looked back at me, a smile dying to grace his features. This was some cruel sort of trick. I was going to go home and watch Meryl Streep sing _The Winner Takes It All _until I fell asleep, convinced the universe was playing some gross trick on me.

Owen had this look on his face like he had no idea who she was even talking about. It feels like being punched in the stomach. Seeing someone forget you when you've seen them everyday of your life since kindergarten. Owen and I had always gone to the same school and though we never hung out together I assumed by now he would know who I was. I just ate dinner at the same table as him. He had called me chub yesterday. How could he not remember?

But some people are just mean because they can be. My mom used to tell me in middle school that sometimes kids don't have any reason to be mean to someone but they are anyway. They're mean because they're hurt and they want everyone else to be hurt too…they don't like seeing people so happy when they aren't.

Here I was, trapped into doing an English assignment with someone who didn't even know my name. But Ms. Dawes wouldn't switch any of the names. She was trying to take two extremes of students and push them together. I understood where she was coming from. She wanted to do just the same as I did. She wanted to prove that kids are all the same, no matter what they dress like or look like on the outside.

"Katie Matlin and Mo Mashkur." Ms. Dawes announced, moving on.

**12:15pm-**

I sat with Adam at lunch, happy to see him alone in the radio area before the broadcast. Dave was absent today because of a doctor's appointment. Adam always mentioned how I would get along with Dave but honestly; I got nervous around Adam half the time.

"I hate Ms. Dawes." I muttered as I sat down at Dave's spot.

"Why?" Adam laughed and offered a ripped off piece of mozzarella stick to me.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry." I don't like eating in front of people. "I can't believe she wants me to write a paper on Owen."

"Owen Milligan is a total jock, all he cares about is hockey and working out. The End." Adam laughed, popping the mozzarella stick in his mouth.

"That's not too far off." I replied. "At least I'm not stuck with Marisol…I feel bad for Eli."

Adam nodded his head in agreement. He was trying to finish his lunch in time to start the broadcast. I wondered how he managed to be charismatic enough to talk on the radio. He always told me it was similar to acting, I could probably do it too.

Acting is so different. People don't have to care about me. I can be someone completely different and no one ever has to get to know me. I'm just a body used to interpret a character. I liked having something to hide behind, something invisible so no one ever accused me of really hiding in the first place. Being invisible is better then being noticed most of the time.

"I don't think Ms. Dawes would put you with Marisol. She doesn't hate you. She knows Marisol bullies you." Adam answered.

"What do you think I should do about the paper?" I asked, I didn't want to talk about how Marisol treated me.

"Like ideas about how you guys should get to know each other better? Why don't you just type up your paper and email it to him. I know I hang out with my brother and his friends but that doesn't mean I'm team Milligan all the sudden." Adam responded.

"I do actually want to do this project the way Ms. Dawes intends." I replied.

"Of course you do. How you guys take each other to like…the best memory place ever. Like the place you had your best memory of when you were kids or something. How's that?" Adam asked.

"It's good…thanks for helping." I responded.

"I'm not going to talk to him for you…you know that right. You actually have to talk to him Leigh." Adam answered, sending me a look as he stood up to throw out his trash.

"I know." I replied.

I stood up after him and walked out of the radio booth. There was still 15 minutes left of lunch but I was planning on spending them re-organizing my locker. There wasn't much else for me to do before my next class started.

I tried to think of what Adam had said earlier when I saw Owen standing at his locker. He looked like he was getting his gym bag out and I considered that next was gym and that there was football practice starting today after school. Oh well finishing this project while working around his sports schedule would be ridiculous. How could Ms. Dawes possibly think this is a good idea?

"Owen?" I asked, my voice nearly cracking on the N. 17 and I can't talk to a boy?

He looked over and gave me a funny look, the same one he had earlier during English. _Who are you?_ It asked.

"Adam's girlfriend right?" He asked.

"Ah…yeah, or no… no I'm not his girlfriend but yeah I was over last night." I replied. Did people really think I was Adam's girlfriend? Did Adam know that people thought I was his girlfriend? I know he still liked Bianca.

"So what's up Adam's girlfriend?" He asked, ignoring my telling him that wasn't who I was.

"Uh…we're supposed to work on that English project and I was wondering when you wanted to." I replied.

It wasn't that I was shy, once I started it was easy to hold a conversation with someone. But it was the nerves that ate at me before I opened my mouth that kept me from ever talking.

"Oh…yeah. What's your name again?" Owen asked.

"Emaleigh." I replied, "or Leigh. So?"

"I got practice after school." Owen replied, "What are you doing after 6?"

"Um…nothing." I replied.

"Alright. Meet me at The Dot then I guess." He shrugged; he looked like he really just wanted the conversation over with.

I nodded and watched him walk away from me toward the gym. I had gym next to, but I would probably fake sick and go to the nurse's office so I didn't have to play volleyball with a bunch of other kids. I didn't feel like being hit in the head with volleyball by Marisol. It was her favorite thing to do. Considering she was on the volleyball team it was amazing that she couldn't spike a ball over the net when I was in front of her.

**8:15pm-**

Mom left for work. I'm home already. I imagine Owen laughing with his friends that he never came and I was waiting there for an hour. I should've known he wasn't going to come. Adam was right…tomorrow I'm asking Ms. Dawes for a new partner. I would take being harassed by Marisol to this.

I don't have time to worry about Owen and what a jerk he was though. My sister's nurse is sick. Waking up on the floor of my sister's room at 5:45 is never easy but I can't let her sleep in her room by herself. My mom asked if it was okay with me but I always answer yes.

I read something once…well my mom made me read this story that this author wrote about caregivers. About how they don't necessarily choose whether they are going to be caregivers or not. How they just become them because they have to, because they want to, because it's who they are. Is that who I am? Am I just my sister's caregiver, there to watch over her when she comes home from school and my mom has to go into work.

Adam told me someday I could go to some amazing school far away in New York City or Los Angeles. But I could never even travel outside of Ontario. I'd be too afraid. My mom needs my help. I wouldn't dream of letting her take care of everything all by herself.

_But Mariella just crossed her arms and walked up the stairs_

_And she went into her bedroom and sat on her bed_

_And she looked in the mirror and she thought to herself_

_If I wanna play I'll play with me _

_And if I wanna think I'll think in my head_

_At school Mariella didn't have many friends_

_Yeah all the girls they looked at her _

_And they thought she was quite strange._


	4. I Am The One

**Sorry it's been so long. I'm writing again on here, very slowly but i wanna finish these. **

**The song for this chapter: I Am The One _from the musical _Next To Normal**

**Please review and let me know what you think. I'm nervous about this chapter. **

* * *

><p><em>Can you tell me<em>

_What it is your afraid of_

_Can you tell me why I'm afraid it's me_

_Can I touch you_

_You've been fine for so long now_

_How could something go wrong that I couldn't see?_

**The Journal Of Adam Torres –**

**8:00am **

I know it's really no big deal. Or at least, that's what Leigh said to me last night on the phone. That it's not a big deal and I shouldn't worry so much. People change but that doesn't mean I have to change friends.

Still, it feels different. I stand in the hallway and watch Eli laughing with Fiona and Imogen. I'm over what happened with Fiona and I. It wasn't her fault and I understand how she felt. Leigh won't admit that she likes Owen because she doesn't want to hurt me, she doesn't want to bring up old scars. I always assumed Eli would be the same. I don't expect him to hold on to grudges that I've moved on from…but he knows how badly I was hurt. I'll never be the guy that gets the girl and the humiliation of Fiona using me for the type of guy I was never really went away. So watching Eli joking with her before class feels like a knife twisting in my stomach.

Leigh brushes passed on her way to Math and I take in her tired appearance. Her khaki colored Bermuda shorts have paint smears on them from the last time she painted the living room over the summer. Her Degrassi shirt is tearing at the hem and the collar. Her mom isn't poor but Leigh won't let anyone spend money on her. I wave hello and she smiles, she has the prettiest smile. Not in that, I-have-a-crush-on-my-best-friend way just that I'm-best-friends-with-the-most-beautiful-girl-ever way.

I see her stop to let Owen in and wonder what he doesn't see in her. I thought he'd be more open-minded after Anya but I heard about what they did to the Caf. It proves they're just as stupid this year as they were last.

**2:00pm**

I can feel myself moving on from Bianca. Not because I don't like her, the feeling is still there. But I'm more perceptive then I'm given credit for. Years of blending in and observing have taught me a thing or two. Even with his arm around Katie I can see the look Drew gives Bianca. Like it's all still there.

I know Bianca still likes Drew. She jumped at the chance to go to the woods with Clare. I know I should be jealous but how can I be? What did I expect? Her to suddenly have a change of heart? We may be friends but I know the look she gives me. Like I'll never really be enough. She won't let herself like me again.

Katie should be jealous. Bianca has Drew wrapped around her finger and it's just a matter of time before Drew goes right back to her. There's like a gravitational pull on those two and all I can do is stand back and watch.

"You alright man?" Dave asks when I sit down next to him in class.

I'm glad he's not dating Alli right now. I never liked her anyway. She's not worth the space she takes up and I don't blame Clare for not talking to her. But I think Clare is over her head. I think she needs to lay off Jake because she can't convince herself that something in high school is going to last forever. He just wants a good time. Serious is not something he's ever been capable of.

"Fine." I mutter.

I've been thinking a lot about the future. I've been reading studies online about hormone treatment and about places (clinics) that will sponsor it. There are support groups I'd have to go through first, evaluations that I'd have to take. I know my mom would never pay for treatments. She thinks that stuff is all a gimmick because she won't believe that this is who I am.

I've been thinking of talking to Leigh about it. She'd know what to do. Or at least, she'd go with me to the meetings.

"You don't look fine." Dave laughs it off, it's no big deal that I don't look fine.

And I'm not fine. I've been tossing and turning in bed and I can't sleep for anything. My therapist asked me where I want to be in five years and I can only answer 'far away'. I want to be in another city, in another country, in another place. I want to live far away. I want a girlfriend. As stupid as it sounds I want a family. Even at 16 I can look around the room and know that someday all these kids, Dave, Connor, Wesley, they'll all have families. Kids that came from them and their wives. I'll never have that.

_I'll never be able to really make a family. _

"Guess I'm just tired." I turn away to avoid furthering the conversation. I just want to cry or something. Scream maybe. So loud that everyone in the entire world hears me. But I don't think anything would come out of my mouth if I opened it.

**3:00pm**

"Adam!" Leigh waves me over as I leave the school. She's smiling but I can see the sad look in her eyes even from here. Or maybe I just know it's there.

I wave and walk over. Drew comes over to her too. I find it amusing, that Drew always talks to Leigh as if she's a sister that was separated from us or something. She doesn't have trouble talking to him, when it's just the three of us she jokes and teases him like their friends. But she would never talk to him outside of the three of us. If Katie or Marisol or Owen come over she freezes up and walks away. She doesn't want to be friends with Drew at school.

"Your girlfriend's coming over." Leigh laughed lightly and I looked to see Katie and Marisol walking toward us.

"What?" Drew looks over, he was watching Bianca at her car.

"Stop ogling the ex." I supply.

Leigh starts walking away the minute Marisol and Katie are close enough to see us. If they're mean to Imogen then they're a whole other leave of evil to Leigh. I watch her walking home. She doesn't take the bus because a kid on there used to harass her on the ride home. She doesn't drive because she missed her test to stay in the hospital with her sister for a week. I doubt the teachers even know that's who Leigh is.

"Hey Drew, Adam." Katie smiles at both of us, wrapping her arms around Drew. I don't even nod, I just turn away and head after Leigh. Katie may be Drew's girlfriend but Leigh is all I've got most days.

I can see Eli exiting the school with Fiona. I don't want to always be a third wheel and whether she's forgiven or not, seeing Fiona feels like getting shot in the arm all over again. I can't be friends with both of them and I can't be friends with Eli around Fiona.

I hear Marisol commenting that I'm so rude. That's a joke. Marisol is a downright bitch. I wish someone would just kill off all the Marisols in the world. Put me out of my misery. Please.

_I am the one who held you_

_I am the one who cried_

_I am the one who watched while you died_

_I am the one who loved you_

_I tried pretending that I don't give a damn _

_But you've always known who I am_


	5. Never Grow Up

__**Song: Never Grow Up _by _Taylor Swift**

* * *

><p><em>I won't let nobody hurt you<em>

_Won't let no one break your heart _

_And even though you want to_

_Please try to never grow up_

**The Journal of Emaleigh Konigsburg-**

**1:15pm**

"Oh my god…heaven has reached my ears." A ninth grade boy stated, coming into the classroom. I had study hall this period and was in Miss Oh's music room by myself when he came in. He was sort of tubby with red hair and a smile on his face at the sound coming out of my docked iPhone.

"Grey Gardens…_she is the girl who has everything_…" I laughed, finding it easy to let the words out. Singing in front of strangers was easy on stage but right here. Maybe it was because he was a niner.

"I love this musical." He lamented, sitting down in a chair. "Need help? Ms. Oh asked me to help in here during study hall."

"Sure, I was only waltzing in my head before this." I laughed.

"I'm Tristan by the way." He replied, smiling at me.

"Emaleigh…or Leigh."

We worked in silence, every once in a while Tristan would sing a line. He was far more outgoing then I had been at his age and insanely funny. If this kid had been in my freshman class I would have had no problem fitting in somewhere. I wouldn't have spent nearly three years by myself in this school.

Adam told me yesterday that I needed to try some new activities. I know that means helping with the school play but I don't want to be part of one of Eli's productions. I know he's friends with Adam but I'm not a huge fan of the guy. I mean, I like him more then Clare. She's a crazy-ass mess.

"What other musicals do you like?" Tristan asked.

I was sitting at the drums, the headphones around my neck. Miss Oh always let me practice instruments here because I didn't have any at my house. I loved these drums…they were rubber and you could only hear them if you had the headphones on.

"Anything where they sing." I smiled at him.

"No shit…I meant like…top five?"

"Top five? Are you crazy?" I couldn't list a top five.

"Okay…my top five are like: Rent, Next To Normal, Funny Girl, Grey Gardens, and West Side Story." He stated.

"Okay…uh, Rent also, Funny Girl is a no brainer, Next To Normal, Assassins or anything by Sondheim, and Spring Awakening."

"Oh my god…I went to go see that and I cried my eyes out!" He sighed.

"Here." I held the headphones out to him.

Tristan put them on and I played a beat for him because honestly we were done cleaning stuff up and I was bored. It had been a while since I'd played drums. All summer honestly. Drums were more expensive then other instruments. I had a cello, a violin, and a harp at home. Plus my dad's guitar that I had covered in band stickers.

Some people were defined by sports or smarts. People always say 'that kid is so smart they can do anything' or 'that kid can play any sport and win'. I was defined by music. It was everything I was, everything I had. I could hear a sound and play it back. My old music teacher used to tell me what a gift it was.

I would rather be smart.

Aside from English I was always struggling. It took me hours to finish my homework at night. I could hardly concentrate, the numbers and the letters jumbled themselves in my head. A doctor told my mom I was dyslexic. Then why could I understand the music so well. Why could I look at a sheet of notes and understand it. Because I wanted to? Because my brain only worked that way? Because I could hear the notes even if I couldn't read them?

"You're good." Tristan stated, handing me the headphones back.

"Thank you…what do you play?" I asked, he must play something if Miss Oh trusted him in here.

"Nothing to brag about. I wanna learn the piano." He crossed his arms over his chest. "My parents won't buy one though. It's sports or bust in my house."

"You've escaped the madness?" I joked.

"Oh yeah." He laughed.

"I'll teach you. Piano." I don't know why I offered. Was I so starved for friends? Adam had Dave and Eli and other people. I only had him. Sometimes I felt bad for latching on to him that way. I felt like a crutch, always trying to wriggle my way in to his life because I was alone without him.

"Cool, thanks!" Tristan smiled, he didn't care that I was a total loser of a senior. He only cared that I was going to teach him music.

"Hey Tristan,"

My whole body felt like it was going into overdrive. Standing in the door to the music room was Owen Milligan. He looked slightly annoyed with Tristan and I'm assuming they're related. No wonder Tristan's family was sports or bust.

"What?" Tristan obviously wasn't happy to see his brother standing in door.

I looked down, hitting the rubber drum set to a beat I'd made up when I was younger. I'm focusing on my invisibility.

"Here's money for lunch." He stepped further into the room, I bowed my head again.

"Lunch was an hour ago douche." Tristan grabbed the money anyway.

"Whatever. What the hell is that garbage you're listening to?" Owen made a face as Grey Gardens started back up.

"Grey Gardens. It's a play about a woman and her daughter. They lose all their money but refuse to move out of their house. Eventually it becomes infested with creatures and there's not heating or plumbing or electricity but they still refuse to leave." I heard myself before I realized I was talking. "It's not garbage…it's a culturally significant play about holding on when you should let go."

Tristan grinned and Owen just stared at me. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" He asked.

"Ms. Dawes class. We're partners on the senior project." I don't know why I was talking to him so easily. Maybe the lack of sleep I was suffering. Maybe it was the new job my mom was taking that had better pay but longer hours. Maybe it was the fact that my little brother was turning six soon.

"Oh right. When do you wanna do that?" Owen asked.

"I'll write up my own biography and email it to you." I'm taking Adam's advice. "I'll talk to you later Tristan…I have a keyboard we can use for right now." I smiled at him. Maybe it was because he was in the room and he was so easy to talk around.

"Cool, thanks Leigh. I'll talk to you later." He smiled at me as I grabbed my bag and shoved passed Owen. He can see what it feels like to be shoved. He'll probably forget me again tomorrow.

**4:15pm**

Cooking dinner is something else I'm good at. Cooking is easy. It's like music, it's just there, all the ingredients or notes falling perfectly into place. My little brother is standing on the chair by the counter, watching me stir a pot of sauce and helping to mix the batter for the cupcakes he's been begging for. My mom is already gone for her new job.

My sister Ruthie only eats certain colors. Today she won't eat red so I'm making her mac & cheese with white cheese. Bryce isn't so difficult. He'll eat anything.

"Are you looking forward to being six?" Talking to little kids is easier then talking to kids my own age.

"I get to cut my hair." Bryce reaches up and tugs on a curly strand of hair, watching it bounce back. I can't help but laugh.

"Can we have cupcakes again on Bryce's birthday?" Ruthie asks. She's sitting in her chair doing homework. She likes to color on her own. She's in second grade.

"Of course we can. With sprinkles and tons of frosting." I laugh.

"Yum!" Bryce takes a bite of cake batter and smiles as it drips down his chin and lands on his shirt.

I would scold him but I don't even care. Why does it honestly matter if he spills? Kids should be kids for as long as they can be. I wish I was still a kid sometimes, that I could have someone there to pick up my messes and make me feel better when I'm sad.

_Remember the footsteps_

_Remember the words said_

_And all your little brother's favorite songs_

_I just realized everything I have is someday gonna be gone_


End file.
